


fall away resistance

by chininja



Series: In Every World [4]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/M, It all started with a dick pic but it somehow led to angst??, It is a drawing though, also, not literally a dick pic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-09-07 06:20:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16848751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chininja/pseuds/chininja
Summary: He's a mess, he knows he's a mess because just the thought of not having Sansa in any capacity in his life is giving him a panic attack.--In which I write and present you with angst inspired by The Break-Up.





	1. Chapter 1

Jon was still recounting the latest prank he pulled on Sansa when he got off from work. He should be chuckling like a teenage boy but he couldn't shake out the feeling, like lead had settled in his gut, when he remembered the look on her face after he drew a dick in the middle of a half-made reject of a painting he found in her room. He had to scrub a portion of the painting off with thinner so he could make space for his own art. He thinks he did more than okay. 

But something about the way she stiffened and the thinning of her lips told him that it was something different. Too caught up in his own childish antics, he didn't really take note of it until now. He thought they were still in the middle of pissing each other off in the World's Worst™ Break-Up, both refusing to move out of the apartment they both bought, but something like guilt was niggling at him. 

They weren't always like this, Jon thought. Their relationship started out slow, a budding attraction that began to build upon a tentative sort of friendship. Yet somehow, they managed to bring out the worst in each other now. Sansa, whether intentional or not, always managed to make Jon feel like he's disappointed her. And he doesn't even know what he did. When this happens, Jon becomes too sullen and pushes her away. 

Until he pushed too hard and she finally called it quits on them. 

The funny thing is, Jon thinks, he's still very much in love with her. He's just god awful at words. But this thing that they have now? That's all he can cling to because at least it's still something with Sansa. Even if it is fucked up. 

Before he reaches the apartment, he sees Jeyne and Arya talking inside both with boxes in their hands. 

“Did you get all her clothes?” Jeyne asks her sister-in-law as she puts more of Sansa's things in boxes. 

“Yeah, I got all of them,” Arya responds distractedly. “What she needs 5 pieces of the same black dress for I’ll never - ” she stops mid grumbling when she spots him loitering by the door. 

Jon has seen Arya stare at another human being coldly. She acted the wildest of the Starks with a protective streak to match and Jon has seen that look targeted at many of the creeps who dared to hassle her sister. 

He just never expected to be at the receiving end of it, getting along as quickly as they did.

And Jon knew then that whatever he did to Sansa last night was enough for her to unleash Arya's barely reigned in wrath on him. 

He was about to open his mouth to apologize, even if he wasn't really sure what he was apologizing for when she cuts him before uttering a sound. 

“Her keys are on the table and her share of the lease is left in the bureau,” her voice was void of any warmth he may have gotten used to from her over the course of his relationship with her sister. Arya picks up the box by her feet and proceeded to head out. When she hovers by the door, he knows she wants to say something more. 

“Just spit it out, Arya.” he closes his eyes, bracing himself for a tirade. 

“Out of all the assholes she dated, I never thought you'd be the one capable of hurting her the most, Jon.” 

Jon can't open his eyes after hearing those words, already feeling his guilt from earlier transform into something nastier. He only opens them to see her walk away. 

“Jon,” he turns at the sound of his voice and sees Jeyne’s pitying face. “Sansa asked that you be given this.” She hands him an envelope with his name written in her neat script. 

Jon snaps out of an emotionally induced paralysis when Jeyne moves to leave. “Please Jeyne,” he croaks out, afraid of this moment being the punctuation to their messy relationship. “Can you at least let me know what I've done? How can I - what can I do to -” 

He's a mess, he knows he's a mess because just the thought of not having Sansa in any capacity in his life is giving him a panic attack. 

Jeyne just gives him the same pitying look. “Just read her note, Jon.” It isn't until he hears the door click that he remembers to release the breath he has been holding in.

As if in a trance, he goes inside what used to be their room. It was bare of anything with her things gone and with him setting up camp in the living room. He sees her keys on the bedside table and stops at the painting of a lake from his childhood - the one where his mom used to take him as a boy. It had a pleasant shade from a nearby oak tree with a tire swing hanging from one of its branches. 

It was the painting he drew a dick on and he could kick himself for not recognizing it right away. 

He hastily opens the envelope, his heart pounding because _My God Sansa_ - 

He unfolds the letter and collapses on the bed. 

_Jon -_

_You win. You get to keep the apartment._

_I want you to know, I don't regret you or the time we spent together. I just regret that we both suck terribly at communicating. I ~~love loved~~ love you. You helped me believe in people again, and I'm always going to be grateful for that. _

_You were good to me - the last few months notwithstanding. I guess we're just not good for each other._

_The painting, as you may have deduced, is the one from your childhood you told me about before. I sneaked out a photo from your albums while you were gone. Don't worry, it's taped to the back of the frame._

_I wanted to give it as a peace offering. An olive branch, I guess._

_I don't resent you for what you did. I think it just made me realize that whatever this is that remains between us is probably best left alone. We've been broken up for a while now after all._

_I wish you all the best,_

_Sansa._

His hand clenches over her letter. 

“Shit.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pep talk she gives herself nearly works, but Sansa Stark is also a firm believer of faking it until you make it. So she gathers whatever remaining self-confidence she has; breathes out, straightens her back, and lifts her chin.

Sansa hasn’t seen him since she moved out a month and a half ago, that having a glimpse of him felt like showering in ice. It’s ridiculous because they both agreed on the time and date for the meeting a week ago, so she’s had time to prep herself _(mentally, emotionally, whatever)_ into facing him again. Seeing the way that Jon grips his mug a little tightly his knuckles turn white, how his knee thumps up and down, and how his fingers drum on the table give Sansa the comfort that whatever anxiety she’s feeling about this, it isn’t one-sided.

It’s just, she thought he was her one great love after the string of assholes and creeps she’s dated. Turns out, even the seemingly nice guys can still hurt you.

 _Okay, enough dallying, Stark. Just go in there and talk to him_. The pep talk she gives herself nearly works, but Sansa Stark is also a firm believer of faking it until you make it. So she gathers whatever remaining self-confidence she has; breathes out, straightens her back, and lifts her chin.

She opens the café door slowly. And if the corresponding chimes didn’t get Jon’s attention, her stilettos clacking softly on the hardwood floor certainly did. He wipes his hands down his pants as he stands up, and Sansa takes careful steps towards him. The uncertain smile Jon sends her gives her no relief. It just made the butterflies in her stomach multiply. Because what are they doing here, really? Two people playing at adults who know how to talk to their ex civilly? As if that’s a thing? The fact is, neither of them can even really look at each other in the eye without one having to look away after a couple of seconds.

But they’re here, and they have things to discuss, so they will just have to make do.

She stops a foot before him.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

Sansa can see up close how unruly his beard had become, how despite the upturning of his lips, there is a kind of melancholy in his eyes that weren’t there unless he spoke of his mother. Jon has always been sullen, but he looks sadder, and Sansa can only guess what he thinks of as he observes her.

“You look nice,” Jon answers her silent question. Sansa tilts her head to the side, uncertain if she believes him, but she’s courteous enough to let it pass and accepts the compliment with a near whispered _thank you_. She moves around to the seat in front of him and is surprised to see a mug of tea with a slice of lemon, and it’s such a mundane thing but her heart clenches at the sight of the cup.

She closes her eyes, exhales through her mouth, and tells herself that it is just tea. They lived with each other for two years, of course he’ll remember how she takes her tea. A month and a half of separation isn’t enough time to forget that. _(Just like how she remembers that he always takes his coffee black.)_

“I hope you don’t mind, I ordered ahead for you.” Jon tells her nervously, thinking he’s probably offended her already by assuming her tea order. It’s strange, he thinks, this breaking up thing. It turns once intimate people into awkward strangers.

“No, it’s fine. Just took me by surprise, that’s all.” Sansa responds, her tone quiet.

“That I still know how you take your tea?” There’s a slight furrowing on his brows indicating his confusion.

“No, just the gesture in general.”

His eyes widen a fraction before they focus on his fists loosely clenched on the table. “I’m not a complete dick, Sansa.” And he almost regrets looking up at her then because he sees the thinning of her lips and Jon doesn’t need to be a telepath to know which memory she’s conjuring up in her head right now.

“Sansa,” he starts, and he musters up the courage to look her in the eyes as he apologizes. He owes her that much at least. “I truly am sorry for ruining the painting, and for being too much of an ass to even recognize it.” Her face is blank which gives him pause, but he sees the way that she fiddles with the locket her mother gave her as a girl and that at least gives him the indication that she’s taking in what he says attentively. “There isn’t an excuse. I know that I went too far, and I know how difficult it was to redo.” He flexes his hand to keep himself from doing something stupid, like hold her hand when he’s lost his right to do so.

He laces his fingers instead.

“You didn’t have to, Sansa. It wasn’t like I deserved it.”

She lets go of her locket then, and just honestly looks at him strangely. “Of course, I didn’t.” Jon didn’t really expect her to defend him. Still, her agreement stung a little.

“But I also knew that if I wanted to stop the cycle of vitriol that we both were responsible for, I had to be willing to forgive, too.” At this her eyes soften at him. There is sorrow that he sees in there, Jon knows he’s to blame for. “And,” she continues, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “I know that I have to apologize too.” When he opens his mouth to disagree, but she cuts him off before he can say anything. Jon knows she pushed him, but he’s pretty certain that his emotional ineloquence was what started to drive them apart.

“I realize that I hadn’t really been fair to you, putting on all these expectations on you instead of meeting you where you needed support the most.” There is regret on her face, and Jon wants to wipe it off because despite everything, he still hates that he is the cause of her distress.

“I wanted to be patient, encouraging – someone you can lean on. But every time the opportunity to do so came up,” She looks up, and Jon knows then she’s trying to keep her tears at bay. “All I apparently could feel was frustration. And that wasn’t fair to you, Jon.” Sansa takes a sip of her tea, it’s a little cold now, but it does the job of calming her nerves.

“Sansa,” He lifts his hand to reach her – he wants to touch her cheek, cradle her face in his palm, smooth his hand over her head – and settles for grasping her fingers. “I could’ve been more forthcoming with my feelings too.” His lips turn up a little, and Sansa sees again why she fell in love with him in the first place. “But I don’t think playing the blame game will help either of us now.”

“No, I don’t suppose it will.”

Silence fell over them, both thinking _(wondering, hoping)_ what that means now for them.

They can’t go back to being in a relationship – they both know it’s too soon to revisit that, despite whatever feelings they still have for each other.

_Perhaps –_

Jon starts to lift his hand as if in a handshake.

“What are you doing? Don’t hold out your hand and introduce yourself to me!” Her laughter outshines the look of horror in her face. “It’s so cheesy, Jon! That’s what they do in _all_ the movies.” She laughs, and Jon can’t tell how much that soothes him so he laughs along with her. “Well what do you suggest I do then?” He asks her in challenge. “You already got me tea, we’re fine.” Her eyes wrinkle in mirth and it was like having her friend again, even for a moment.

“Are we,” he starts to ask. “Fine, I mean?"

She considers him, considers his question. “I think so. Maybe.” She sighs. “Today at least.” Sansa doesn’t want to cause him any more pain, but she doesn't want to lie either. There’s still a lot of moving on to be done for the both of them, after all.

“I really love you, you know.” Jon blurts out. Sansa is taken aback, but sees the sincerity in his words.

“I know, I really love you too.” She tells him back, and she knows it’s the truth. But they have a lot to learn on their own, and a lot of maturing to do.

They’re not enemies, neither are they lovers. And neither are naïve enough to think they can be friends again so soon. But as they sit there, finishing their coffee and their tea, there’s a promise of _something_ they are still a little apprehensive to name.

And maybe that’s enough for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In an ideal world, this is how break-ups between adults go. :))

**Author's Note:**

> Would love to hear your thoughts. If it's along the lines of "wtf", don't worry. I have the same thoughts too. ._. 
> 
> I am also  chininja  on tumblr. Come say hi before they ban all our blogs.


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